Solemn Duty (1997) (22 page)

Jean Paul sighed and broke his distant stare. "Yes, I know guilt, Sergeant, I !mow it very well. But it is not for those we have killed, it is for those who died fighting along our side. Thirty-nine men, Sergeant, thirty-nine men who left their homeland as we did, suffered as we did, and struggled as we did. Them, I feel guilt for. Their efforts and their sacrifice gave us the victory we thought not possible. They are the reason I am here, Sergeant Elder. They have given me the opportunity to fulfill my duty."

Jean Paul sat in his chair and looked into the former sergeant's eyes. "You understand little of what I am saying, I know. But know this, Sergeant I am employed by very powerful men. It is not a government, but rather an old organization known only to a few. I have been in your country a year, providing services that benefit their businesses. They respect my work and have allowed me to use their intelligence assets to find you and all the others. My duty is almost done, Sergeant Myself, Tram, Hu Nim, and ten others have traveled far, and finally our work is about to end. Once my duty is complete, we will leave your country and go our separate ways to find peace and happiness. Our suffering and our guilt will finally be over."

Jean Paul took a gold chain from his shirt pocket and leaned over. "And now, Sergeant, I give you your opportunity for peace. This is my gift to you. My grandfather gave a cross to Captain Anderson before the team departed our village for the last time. He gave it to the captain to ensure a safe journey to Pleiku. This cross is for your journey. . . . Perhaps your God is a forgiving God."

Elder looked into Devoe's eyes. "Are you going to kill me?"

Devoe placed the chain around Elder's neck. "Come, Sergeant, it is now time for you to rise. Nim will cause you much pain should you try anything foolish. Sit up slowly. Very good. Now I want you to get on your knees."

Elder clenched his jaw and hissed, "Fuck you."

Devoe dipped his chin toward Hu Nim.

Elder closed his eyes knowing what was going to happen, but was still not prepared for the sudden jolting pain that tore through his body. Urine seeped through his work trousers and blood poured from his lower lip where he had bitten through.

The pain suddenly ended and he shook uncontrollably, his eyelids involuntarily twitching as Devoe leaned over again and spoke in a whisper.

"Get on your knees, Sergeant Elder, regain your honor. I will give you peace."

Sitting on the pier, Kenny Chun held a Kool cigarette in the corner of his mouth as he tried to rewind a cassette tape that somehow had become entangled in the heads of his Walkman.

He ran his fingers down the thin brown tape and soon found a break and angrily tossed the tape into the water. As he looked up he saw the bayliner approaching and slowly got to his feet, took the cigarette from his lips, and tossed it to a watery grave.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he put his hands in the back pockets of his blue jeans and rocked up and back in his rattlesnake boots until the cruiser nestled against the tires hanging from the pylons. Hu Nim stepped onto the pier first, then his superior, Jean Paul Devoe.

Giving a slight bow, Kenny removed one hand from his back pocket and motioned to the cell phone hanging from his wide leather western belt. "Sir, second squad leader called five minutes ago and reported number eight is located in a motel in Greenville. It is a city in this state, but to the north. The squad leader says number eight was visited only a short time ago by two men who drove a vehicle with government license plates."

Devoe exchanged glances with Hu Nim and nodded. "FBI, no doubt. They have finally made the connection. We will have to leave immediately."

Kenny grinned. "Sir, I took the liberty of notifying the air crew, and they are making flight plans now. By the time I drive you to the airport, they will be ready to depart. You will be in Greenville in a little more than an hour."

Devoe smiled and patted the young man's shoulder. "The cowboy hat not only makes you taller, it makes you smarter.

Good thinking, little brother. Nun will drive me to the airport.

The sergeant's craft is secured to the aft cleat. Take the cruiser upriver to a secluded inlet and burn it. Use the small craft and return here and sink it farther down the bank. Nim will return and pick you up, and then the both of you will return to the airport and fly to our home base and begin phase two. Go now, and be careful not to get your boots wet."

Kenny gave a head bow and climbed aboard the cruiser.

Jean Paul took Hu Nim by the arm and walked him toward the Mazda van parked at the end of the pier. "It is almost over, my friend. Once you return to base, check on the old one for me.

Ensure the doctor is doing all he can to ease his pain. Tell him of your preparations for phase two. It will please him."

Hu Nim looked at his superior with concern. "It will be different with the authorities protecting the sergeant. Let me come with you, Jean Paul."

Devoe squeezed the Cambodian's arm. "They are not prepared for us. It will not be a problem. The FBI can be no better than the Triad's dragons we took out in 'eighty-six at that restaurant, remember?"

Hu Nim kept his concerned look. "Yes, but I was with you, Jean Paul. This time you have only the men of second squad, and they are young."

Smiling, Jean Paul motioned behind him toward the departing cruiser. "They are like Chun, wanting to please. Just as we tried to please the old one when we were young. Don't worry, my friend. It will be done quickly-I will see to it. Now, please, give me your cell phone, I have a call to make to an old friend."

.

5:35 P. M. Manassas, Virginia.

In the basement of a renovated old stone farmhouse, Robert Anderson sat on the carpeted floor in a locked, unfurnished, windowless room. With ten days growth of beard and wearing only underwear, he slowly panned the room, as he had a thousand times, looking for a way out. A single light fixture hung from the plaster ceiling, and in the far corner attached to the ceiling, a security camera whirred as it panned back and forth.

Several feet away from Anderson there was a mattress and blankets on the floor, and across from him, a toilet. The walls were wood paneled, and the locked steel door had a six-inch hinged opening through which food and bottled water were passed to him three times a day. Above the door a small speaker box suddenly clicked with static. A few seconds later the dreaded, computerized voice filled the room.

"Captain Anderson, Sergeant Elder remembered me-he was the first to do so. Perhaps because it was daylight? He is at rest now, he has finally found peace . . . There is another... one more, Captain Anderson. I am on the way to help him now. Sergeant Walter Schwark. You called him Shark, remember? Do you remember, Captain Anderson? Yes, I'm sure that you do. I must go now . . . but I will call you when it's done. Good-bye."

Anderson stood and screamed at the speaker box, "N0000!"

.

8:39 P. M. Fairfax, Virginia.

Eli opened the car door and sat in the passenger seat as Ashley scooted in behind the steering wheel. He took out his cell phone and looked at his partner. Ashley nodded. "Tell her and let's get some rest."

Eli pushed the number keys and only had to wait a few seconds. "Mona, it's Eli. We just finished talking with the colonel's wife. You have a pen and paper handy? Most of the stuff we got from the agents who already checked Anderson out, but there are some things we found in talking to her that help us. Here goes. Robert Anderson had not been out of the Washington area in over six months. He made no withdrawals from any source and his bank has not processed any checks since his disappearance. His car was found the night his wife reported him missing. It was found at a 7-Eleven where his wife says he got coffee before going to work in the mornings.

The wife we just talked to is his second; the first, Anderson divorced after returning from Vietnam. Agent Sutton called her in Arizona, and it seems Anderson came home from the war despondent and depressed. He transferred out of Special Forces and changed his branch from Infantry to Signal Corps.

"The first wife said he was not the man she married, and they divorced because of irreconcilable differences. The second wife, Sandy, married Anderson in 'seventy-four.

They've had two children, and it appears Anderson is a conscientious, loving husband and father. The eldest daughter is married now and told the colonel and Sandy a week before his disappearance that they would soon be grandparents. Sandy showed us the crib he was making in the garage.

"I also called Anderson's closest friends at work. All three said he was the happiest they had seen him since he'd begun work at the graphics company. Not one said he had any problems they were aware of. The Washington office also gave me a copy of his phone records from the house and office. No calls had been made to any of the victims' towns or cities. Bottom line, Mona, is we found nothing to support Anderson being the killer other than that he's missing. Anything new on your end?'

Eli held the phone away from his ear so Ashley could hear.

Ramona Valez's voice sounded tired. "Afraid so, Eli. The IRS gave the office John Elder's address in Charleston. The resident office there went to the residence to make contact and found his wife almost hysterical. The marina he works for had sent him out to Charleston Bay this evening to fix a rental that radioed in with engine problems. Elder never returned, and the rental cruiser was found burning in an inlet on the Cooper River about two hours ago. No bodies have been found, but the local police are still looking. I do have some good news, though. The other missing team member, Walter Schwark, and his wife, have been found. They were on their way back from Florida on Interstate 85 and stopped four hours ago at a motel in Greenville to get a night's sleep. The motel manager had read the all-points on the Schwarks and notified the office. Resident agents from Greenville responded and are staying with the couple and will accompany them back to Fayetteville."

Eli tensed as he spoke into the phone. "Mona, have you told the SAC about the possibility of the killer having help?"

"Yes, at the three o'clock meeting. As expected, they don't buy it yet, Eli. The information you've just given me will give me another chance in the morning meeting."

"Mona, you've got to try again, now. If we're right and the victims are being watched, then our killer knows about the agents being with the Schwarlcs."

"Oh, God, you're right. I'll call the SAC right now." There was a click. She had hung up.

Ashley looked at Eli. "Are you thinking the killer will still go after Schwark?"

Eli sank back into the seat. "He has the advantage of surprise; the agents don't know they're being watched. Yeah, I think the bastards will try; nothing has stopped them so far."

.

8:48 P. M. Greenville, South Carolina.

Walt Schwark took a beer out of the cooler and looked at the agent sitting on the bed. "You want one?"

The agent shook his head. "I'm on duty, sir."

Sitting on the other twin bed, with her back resting on the headboard, Sally Schwark lowered the book she was reading.

"'Tell him, Walter. This is silly. Staying in our room with us just isn't right. How am I going to sleep? Tell him to stay with his partner next door and we'll promise to keep the door locked."

Walt took a sip of beer and hunched his shoulders. "Jesus, Sal, he's sittin' right here, tell him yourself."

The agent shifted his gaze to Sally. "Mrs. Schwark, I'm truly sorry we can't tell you more, but as I explained before, one of us must stay with you at all times."

Sally ignored the agent and kept her eyes on her husband.

"Walter, I don't mind them eating dinner with us, and I don't mind one of them riding with us in the car tomorrow, but I certainly do mind them sleeping with us."

Walter wrinkled his brow. "Sal, this is for our own good.

Relax, will ya? Order one of them pay movies if it'll make ya feel better."

"Any one I want?"

"Yeah, but none of them kung fu kickin' flicks. Ya know I can't stand that fake crap."

Sally had already picked up the remote and hit the menu button. "Oh, good, they've got old ones. I wanna see An Affair to Remember. It makes me my every time I see it."

"Sal, I don't think Agent Marks here wants to hear ya sobbin'."

"It'll make me tired, Walt. I'll be able to sleep."

"Fine, watch it. I'll sit over here by Agent Marks and shoot the breeze."

"Whisper, Walter, I want to hear my show."

"Fine, I'll whisp--"

The agent's cell phone began beeping and he reached for it in his jacket pocket, but the door suddenly flew open, sending splinters of wood and pieces of door hardware flying. Marks grabbed for his pistol but was flung back with the impact of a bullet in the forehead.

Having ducked down, Walter looked up, but was pushed to the floor by a man dressed in black. Another man strode past and raised his pistol, aiming at Sally, who had her hands up, waving them in front of her face as if trying to swat invisible flies. She cried out, "No please, no, pleaeeese!"

The man squeezed the trigger and Sally seemed to jump back in the bed as blood, brain, and skull fragments splattered the wall behind her head.

Walter was jerked to his feet and pushed toward the open door, but he still managed to look over his shoulder. He saw his wife, and swung at the man to try and get to her, but he was hit in the stomach so hard he sank to his knees. Again he looked at his wife, who was still sitting up in bed, but her head was slumped forward as if she'd fallen asleep. Unable to breathe, Walter gagged, but was jerked to his feet again and shoved out the door. Unable to keep his balance, he fell forward over a hedge just past the sidewalk. He hit the pavement of the parking lot and lay in a heap trying to breathe. Finally, air came. He looked up. A man was leaning over him.